


Laissez-faire

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Inspired by Music, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hands off- and that goes for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laissez-faire

**Author's Note:**

> [King by Weezer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0lOYCzKhfoQ)

The King hated these little social events. He was hands off in politics- wasn’t there a word for that?- didn’t like to flash his face like he was running for election. He had to be here, whether he liked it or not, had to show good faith with the NCR after that whole shootout business. _Damn Pace_ , he thought, taking a sip of his Nuka and Rum.

Okay, so it wasn’t the social event he hated so much as where it was being held- the Atomic Wrangler. He didn’t have anything against the Wrangler per say: fine business, fine patrons... Maybe his problem wasn’t with the place as it was with Garret- the particular Garret all over a pretty little Courier that hopped out of King’s own bed this morning.

He never was a jealous sort- let people make their own decisions, _hands off_ \- but there was something about the way James teased his hand over the thick leather back of her jacket, squeezed the shoulder now and then, cheapest bottle of beer he sells in his free hand because every cap he spent came from the till.

It really wasn’t none of the King’s business ( _hands off_ ) but she had told him “See you at the Wrangler tonight” and kissed him goodbye. Well, she did see him- saw, waved, and disappeared back into the crowd. Next time he saw her, James was milling her around the floor, introducing her to all the customers like a show dog.

Another sip. He should have brought one of the groupies, something other than a bodyguard that made him look full of himself.

That right there was what made him mad- she was having a grand time speaking with one of the officers, and James waved her over to have some boring conversation with some boring local folk when he excused himself back behind the counter, probably to get them more drinks, make himself look useful. She’d always been good with people, forcing laughs, shaking hands and ass-kissing while Garret...

“Always a pleasure, King. Can I get you anything?” James asked.

The King swished his Rum and Nuka, still half-full. “No thanks.”

“Alright. You change your mind, let Francine or I know and we’ll take good care of you.” He smiled kindly, and moved to tend to other customers.

Maybe it was the rum, but the King was suddenly feeling very forward. “You’re just going to let your date fend for herself like that?”

James raised a brow, followed the King’s pointed finger, and laughed, outright. “You think she’s my _date?_ ” He supported himself on the bar, cracking up, and that was offending the King even more. “She did some legwork for me, but not _that_ kind of legwork. No, that’s Erin Holt, Courier Six, know her?”

“I’m familiar.”

“Then you should know I’m lucky when she lets me lick her boots!”

“You’ve been hangin’ around her an awful lot...” the King went on, resenting the jealousy creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, of course I have! Who wouldn’t want to be seen with her?” He put up an elbow and leaned on the bar conspiratorially. “Between you and me, she says her date’s being a prick. Won’t talk to her. Didn’t say who, but hey, lets me do a little networking. I know all the need-to-knows in Freeside, she’s got a decent rep with the NCR, I scratch her back, she scratches mine...”

He must have seen the King’s brows knit together. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her, I were you. She could have anyone in this room. See?” He motioned vaguely, and though the King didn’t want to, he turned. Some dark-skinned man had his arm around her shoulder, while hers wrapped around his waist- a young, fit thing in uniform and a First Recon beret.

“Yeah,” James said laughingly, “don’t you worry about her.”

For the first time in a long time, the King realized he wasn’t the most important person in a room.


End file.
